I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Industrial age relic: Do companies pay for your time or your brain?
Conservatives don’t understand liberal groups — and vice versa
Too many voices with little to say: Politics matters less and less to me
FRIDAY FUNNIES
FRIDAY FUNNIES
My drive to be perfect led to lack of compassion for self and others
I can’t find the balance between expecting too much and too little
KKK-loving newspaper owner has always been a nut; this isn’t news